The sun had barely risen over the forest when Elara and Kenric began their work. Elara's home, usually a haven of solitude and quiet study, had become a whirlwind of activity. Books were pulled from shelves and piled on tables. Ancient maps, yellowed with age, lay unfurled across the floor, marked with faded ink symbols that only Elara could decipher.
Kenric, however, seemed less interested in the task at hand and more fascinated by everything around him. "You've got a lot of secrets here, don't you? Stories older than my village, I bet."
Elara ignored him, her attention already returning to the task at hand. She pulled another tome from the shelf, her fingers brushing over the embossed runes on its cover. As she flipped through its pages, Kenric continued his exploration, his gaze darting from one artifact to another.
"This one's heavy," he grunted, pulling a thick tome from a low shelf. "What's it about?"
"Put that down," Elara said without looking up, her fingers trailing over the spines of her books.
Kenric ignored her and flipped the book open. "The Flora of the Southern Reaches," he read aloud. "Not exactly what we're looking for, is it?"
Elara turned, her green eyes narrowing. "That book is three hundred years old. It is not a toy."
Kenric grinned. "Three hundred? That's older than my great-grandfather's barn."
Elara sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. "I thought you were here to help."
"I am helping." Kenric closed the book and set it down carefully. "But I've never seen anything like this before. Your home is like a library, an apothecary, and a museum all rolled into one." He gestured to the shelves and jars around him. "Don't you ever get lonely out here?"
Elara didn't answer immediately. Instead, she pulled a slender volume from the shelf and began flipping through its pages. "I prefer solitude," she said curtly.
Kenric leaned against the table, watching her. "Why? You must've had friends at some point. Family?"
Elara's fingers stilled on the page. "I've lived many lifetimes, Kenric. People come and go. The forest remains."
Kenric frowned, his easy smile fading. "That sounds… lonely."
Elara closed the book with a snap and set it aside. "We're wasting time. The blight isn't going to wait for us to reminisce about the past."
For hours, they combed through her collection, searching for any clue that might explain the unnatural sickness spreading across the land. Kenric's questions never ceased, and though Elara answered sparingly, he seemed undeterred.
"So, do you eat regular food? Or is it all berries and leaves?"
"Do you ever leave the forest? Surely you've been to human towns before."
"How old are you, exactly?"
"What's in that jar?" he asked, pointing to a glass vessel filled with a shimmering green liquid.
"A tincture for calming restless minds," Elara replied without looking up.
"And that?" he gestured to a bundle of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling.
"Protection wards."
Kenric nodded thoughtfully. "You must be quite the healer."
Elara glanced at him, her expression guarded. "I know what the forest teaches."
Kenric's questions continued, never ceasing to end.
Elara clenched her jaw, flipping through another book with more force than necessary. "Do you ever stop talking?"
Kenric shrugged. "Not really."
By midday, Elara's patience was wearing thin. She stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by stacks of books, her mind racing. The answers were here - she knew they were - but Kenric's incessant chatter was making it impossible to focus.
The sun dipped lower as the hours passed, casting golden light through the windows of Elara's home. Dust danced lazily in the light, settling on the stacks of books and scrolls that now littered the floors. Kenric sat cross-legged by the hearth, flipping through an ancient text with an air of casual curiosity.
Elara, meanwhile, was growing weary. Her eyes skimmed line after line of ancient text, but the answers she sought eluded her. Every book she opened felt heavier, every word more cryptic.
With a sigh, she closed the book before her and stood, stretching out her stiff limbs. "I need tea," she muttered, more to herself than to Kenric.
Kenric glanced up from his book. "Tea sounds nice. Got anything strong?"
Elara gave him a withering look. "I don't make tea for guests. You're capable of finding water, aren't you?"
Kenric chuckled, unbothered by her prickly demeanor. "Fair enough."
She retreated to her kitchen, taking her time brewing a pot of herbal tea. The familiar ritual helped her focus. She watched the water boil and steeped a handful of dried leaves she had gathered in the spring. The scent of lavender and sage filling the air, calming her mind.
For a moment, she allowed herself to reflect on how her life had changed in less than a day. A human, in her home. It felt wrong. Foreign. Yet here he was, flipping through her books like a curious child.
After finishing her tea, Elara gathered herself and headed toward her room. She needed space to think, away from Kenric's endless questions and his insatiable curiosity.
"I'll be in my study," she said as she passed him. "Try not to break anything."
Kenric grinned. "No promises."
Elara's room was her sanctuary - a quiet space filled with ancient texts, maps, and relics from centuries past. She sat at her writing desk, unfurling a map of the known lands. Her fingers traced the edges of the forest, marking the places where the blight had already spread.
She could feel the weight of the task ahead pressing on her. This wasn't just about her home anymore. It was about the balance of the world itself.
She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift back to her childhood in the forest. She remembered wandering these same woods, the trees vibrant with life and the rivers teeming with fish. The world had felt endless back then - unchanging and eternal. But now, the same world was fragile.
Lost in thought, she barely noticed the passage of time. It was only when the scent of smoke from the hearth reached her that she realized she had been away for hours.
Rising from her chair, she straightened her robes and made her way back to the living room.
When Elara entered the room, her gaze immediately locked onto Kenric. He stood near a wooden shelf, holding a small, intricately carved box in his hands.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Put that down," she said, her voice sharp.
Kenric turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "What? This? It's beautiful. What is it?"
"That," Elara said, striding toward him, "is an artifact from before your kind even knew how to build homes. It's not a toy."
Kenric carefully placed the box back on the shelf. "I wasn't going to break it."
Elara narrowed her eyes. "You don't know what it is, what magic it holds. Some things aren't meant to be touched."
Kenric shrugged, unbothered. "I was just curious."
Elara folded her arms. "Curiosity can be dangerous."
They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick. Finally, Elara sighed and shook her head. "Just… don't touch anything else. I'm trying to find answers, and your meddling is slowing me down."
Kenric nodded, taking a step back. "Understood."
Elara glanced at the shelves, making sure everything was in its place. Her gaze lingered on the artifact for a moment longer before turning back to Kenric.
"Sit down and don't. touch. anything…. I'm going to continue looking through these texts for an answer."
Finally, as the light outside began to wane, Elara pulled a battered, leather-bound tome from a high shelf. Her heart quickened as she flipped through its pages, the ancient text written in flowing Elvish script.
"There," she murmured, her finger tracing a passage.
Kenric leaned in, squinting at the unfamiliar writing. "What's it say?"
Elara translated slowly, her voice steady. "It speaks of a veil - a barrier that separates our world from another. The veil maintains balance in nature, but if it grows too thin, it can cause great harm. Crops fail, rivers dry, forests wither." She looked up at Kenric. "It sounds like what's happening now."
Kenric nodded. "So… the veil is thinning?"
"That's what it suggests." Elara closed the book, her expression thoughtful. "The text mentions a place at the edge of the western forest - a sacred grove where the veil is at its weakest. If we are to find answers, that is where we must go."
Kenric straightened, her earlier levity replaced by determination. "Then we go. First thing tomorrow."
Elara hesitated, her gaze lingering on the ancient tome in her hands and the weight of her decision pressing upon her. She had spent centuries avoiding the world beyond her forest, content to live in solitude. But now, that world was calling her once more.
"Yes," she said quietly. "We leave at dawn."
As the evening deepened, they prepared for rest. Elara set out a simple meal - bread, cheese, and dried fruit - and Kenric ate heartily, grateful for the respite.
"I appreciate this," he said, his tone softer than before. "You didn't have to help me, but you did."
Elara offered a faint smile. "I am helping the land, Kenric. Not just you."
"Either way," he said, leaning back in his chair, "I am grateful."
Elara didn't respond, but something in her expression softened.
Later, as they settled in for the night - Kenric on a makeshift bed by the hearth, Elara retreating to her room - the weight of their task loomed large in both their minds. Tomorrow, they would begin a journey that neither of them fully understood, seeking answers in places long forgotten.
And though their bond was fragile, there was a sense of purpose between them.
As the fire crackled softly, Kenric's voice broke the silence. "Elara?"
"Yes?"
"Don't worry - I won't touch any more of your things."
Elara chuckled quietly from the other room. "Good night, Kenric."
And with that, the house fell into a peaceful quiet, the weight of the coming journey hanging gently in the air.